


Subspace

by radicallyred



Series: College Collage [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: College AU, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Smut, Subspace, always use a safe word kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 10:29:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19810417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radicallyred/pseuds/radicallyred
Summary: “You okay?”Steve tries to conveyI'm a massive goofball who's just dropped hard into subspace because you kissed me without actually saying anything, and ends up with a half-shrug half-smile that he hopes at least communicates that he isn't having a panic attack. He's trying, he really is, but it's like trying to swim against the current and Tony isn't helping at all.





	Subspace

Steve is aware that he's stayed glued to this wall for long enough to make it weird.

Tony probably didn't mean anything by it. He just hadn’t seen Steve all day, got excited and pounced on him for a kiss right in the middle of the bar. And Steve is never going to turn down kissing Tony, so he took half a step back to lean against the wall and enjoy the moment. Except that they’re in the middle of a bar and anyone can hear them, and when he pointed this out, Tony said “So be quiet,” pushed his shoulders back, and Steve was gone. Tony was pressing against him and nipping at his ear and all Steve could do was try desperately not to moan. He's pretty sure he stopped breathing for a while there, too.

And then Tony set a chaste peck on his lips and stepped away to yell something back to Rhodey, and here Steve is trying to get his head on straight. He can't be quiet and be near Tony at the same time, but logic isn't going to help right now. He just needs to pull himself out of this headspace and into one where he can behave like a normal person. He's done it plenty of times before. He's just a little out of practice.

Tony finally turns around, hands wrapped around a tablet–Christ, Tony’s hands, he wants those hands all over him-and notices Steve doing an impression of a stranded fish. 

“You okay?”

Steve tries to convey _I'm a massive goofball who's just dropped hard into subspace because you kissed me without actually saying anything_ , and ends up with a half-shrug half-smile that he hopes at least communicates that he isn't having a panic attack. He's trying, he really is, but it's like trying to swim against the current and Tony isn't helping at all. He’s stepping back towards him and staring and reaching to cup his neck in one warm hand. Steve leans into it, he can't help it. He's not pulling even a little but, God, Tony’s fingers in his hair.

“Um,” Tony says softly. “You sure you're okay? Because that doesn't really look like an okay-face. That looks more like you’ve– oh. _Oh._ I don't really know how to… you could stop being quiet?”

There's a hazy weightlessness spreading through Steve’s body, but even so he feels like an idiot. He shouldn't need to be told that. He mutters “Sorry,” and wraps his arms around himself. Tony pulls him a little away from the wall and there's an uncomfortable moment where he's not sure which way to move, but then Tony has one arm wrapped snug around his waist and the other hand is cradling the back of his head so Steve can just cling. Tony's voice rumbles low in his chest.

“So, that wasn't a reaction I was expecting, but for the record, I kind of want to do terrible things to you now.”

Steve shivers. Terrible things. Done to him. 

“Yes please?” Tony chuckles and swipes his thumb over Steve’s cheekbone.

“We’re sort of in a bar with about a hundred people and not enough time for that, and I'm not really sure where your head's at. Are you going to be alright? You need me to do anything? Leave you alone maybe?”

Deep breaths. This is fine, this is good, he doesn't have to climb all the way out of the hole. Tony is right here. He just has to find his balance. He nuzzles into Tony’s shoulder and pulls himself together. 

“Just hold me a minute? I'm okay. I'm sorry, I have bad timing. I'll be fine as long as you're not mad at me.”

“Not mad. Definitely not mad. Just surprised. We should probably talk about it later, though.” Tony can obviously feel him tensing up at his words, because he goes on, “I promise I'm not mad. Like, really the opposite of mad. Thinking very happy, dirty thoughts about you. That's all. Unless I have totally misread what's going on here.”

“No. No, dirty thoughts is about right. Especially if you're, uh, directing them?” Steve has to stop a moment and get control of the flood of images detailing exactly what directions Tony could give, in high definition and surround sound. “I can explain later?” Tony strokes his hair, gentle comforting gestures that don't make him an ounce less focused on Steve. 

“Yeah, later’s good. Can I kiss you?” 

“Always,” Steve breathes, and pulls back just far enough to press his lips to Tony’s, opens his mouth and lets him chase his tongue, clings tight to anything he can get because this kiss has to last him for hours.

Talking to his friends is a lot easier than anticipated. There's a fizzing energy under his skin, a constant distraction, but his attention back to what he's supposed to be doing. 

“You okay, Rogers? Looking a little dazed there,” Clint points out. Steve nods, smiles a bit. 

“Yeah. Just a bit in my head, I’ll be fine.” He spares a glance at Tony.

“It’s been a long week for sure.” Tony replies, draping himself over Steve, a soothing weight.

“Stark, take good care of our boy,” Carol smirks, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s getting late, so we’re gonna go.” She announces, winking at Steve as she helps Rhodey up. 

“Yes ma’am,” And the group goes their separate ways, Tony and Steve lingering until they’re the last in the room. 

Tony turns to him, all smiles, and stops just shy of kissing him.

Which is good. It is. He needs to keep his head straight until they get home and Tony enthusiastically kissing him would make that impossible. Even if this... thing of Tony standing inside his personal space and shying back from touching him, kind of makes him want to cry again. He leans forward and brushes his lips against Tony's, who breaks into a grin.

“Your place or mine?”

Steve swallows. “I don't–you don't have to. I'm really sorry I freaked out earlier. You didn't do anything wrong. I'll be fine tomorrow-” and now Tony isn't smiling and he's fucked everything up.

“Now I really don't know where your head's at,” He says. “What are you apologizing for?”

He shrugs helplessly. “Sorry.”

Tony kisses him, soft and lingering, and Steve hears his own breath trembling when Tony pulls away. “Steve,” he says gently, “do you want to go home on your own? Because you can, you always can, but you don't have to. You sound like you're trying to spare me something, but I was really looking forward to later. So… do you hate the idea now?”

“God, Tony, you have no idea, I want it so much. I know I'm not making much sense right now.” Steve stares at the window over Tony’s shoulder, trying to cajole his brain into making an actual decision. “Your place?”

They walk the three blocks to get back to Tony's and ride up the elevator to Tony’s apartment. Steve sits awkwardly on the couch, anxiously drumming his fingers against his thighs as Tony makes coffee. Steve gives in and paces, trying to compose explanations in his head. 

He's never actually had to explain it before. He just started doing stuff his boyfriend liked, and it worked, so they kept going and he picked up the words for it along the way. Trying to explain everything is an overwhelming prospect, even if he wasn't already spacing out. So maybe he should just explain enough that they can get through tonight? Tony might not even like topping him once he tries it, and then they'll know and they'll just… try to avoid pressing Steve’s buttons like that, or something. Tony’s an adult, he's capable of saying no. And Tony lets Steve top him, so even if he hates it the other way around, Steve still has a lot to be grateful for.

Tony clears his throat and Steve pauses mid pivot. When he finally faces him, Tony frowns. “Okay. You still look terrified. Have I turned into a ravening monster?”

“No? No, you still pretty much look like you.” Steve runs a hand nervously through his hair. “Okay. So. Never explained this before, not sure where to start. I like being told what to do? And I'm kind of spacing out right now because of the thing with the wall and the being quiet? That's going to get worse when we get going. I'm hopeless that way.”

“Okay,” Tony says, and he doesn't look weirded out, even though Steve is paying really close attention to whether he might be. “Okay, not touching you because I don't want you to space out while we're still talking? But I'm guessing it's a good kind of spaced?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it's definitely good.”

“And you like being told things. What kind of things, sweetheart?”

Steve spreads his hands despairingly. “If I tell you what to tell me it doesn't work. Then it's still me making the decisions. But if, oh God, I don't know. If you were to bend me over the sofa and tell me to hold still so you could fuck me, I'd hold still and I'd let you fuck me and it would be good. Really good.”

Tony hums low in his throat. “And if I didn't want to fuck you? If I wanted to make you suck me off?”

“Please?” Steve wishes he sounded less needy, but it doesn't seem to matter. Tony steps in close and sets both hands on Steve’s hips, dark eyes boring into him.

“If I do anything you don't like, tell me.”

Steve nods frantically, and then Tony’s lips are on his. He melts into the kiss, opening his mouth for Tony to lick at his tongue and nip gently at his bottom lip. Tony reaches up into his hair and tugs, right at the base of the skull, and Steve follows instinctively, tilting his head back so Tony can bite his neck too gently to leave marks. He whines and Tony laughs quietly against his throat.

“Patience, sweetheart. You let me decide where to leave reminders.” He almost topples over, but Tony catches him, bracing him carefully and letting his head fall forward; he doesn't even get his neck wrenched. Steve clings to Tony's arms and breathes. He's dizzy with relief, with the release of letting Tony run things.

Tony leads him into the bedroom, once he's steadier on his feet, and tells him “Strip.” He doesn't waste time, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it towards the laundry basket, toeing off his socks and leaving his jeans on the floor where they fall. He stands naked by his bed, the air cool on his skin, while Tony strips out of his own clothes and settles comfortably with his back against the headboard. He beckons, and Steve goes, pressing in close to kiss him and feel bare skin against his own. Tony grips the back of his neck, controlling the kiss. His other hand roams across Steve's chest, until he finds Steve's nipple and rolls it between his fingertips. Steve moans at the sensation, lightning arcing down his spine, and Tony doesn't stop, just keeps tugging and twisting until Steve is whimpering desperately into his mouth.

“This is fun,” Tony says, low and throaty. “We need a safeword. Tell me, be a good boy and tell me your safeword.” Steve swallows thickly a few times before the words find him. 

“Armor.” Tony smiles seductively and strokes his fingers through his hair a few more times. 

“Good boy. Go down on me.” He spreads his legs and Steve settles between them, leaning over to run his tongue languidly up the length of Tony's cock. This is familiar ground, Tony's cock full and thick in his mouth. Tony makes a satisfying little noise and slides his fingers back into Steve's hair, rolling his hips just a little. Steve whimpers helplessly at the feel of it, Tony pressing up into his mouth, and looks up to see a more wicked grin than he ever knew Tony could wear.

“You do the work, sweetheart,” Tony says, and settles back, his hand resting in Steve's hair but making no move to control his movements. Steve does what he's told, sinking down around Tony's cock and flicking his tongue under the head, where he knows licking gets the best results.

“Fuck, you look so good like this. Trying so hard to please me, on your knees for me...” and Steve moans around Tony's cock because he is on his knees and he hadn't even realised. Tony's hips tremble with the effort of not bucking up into his mouth and Steve almost can't handle it, has to reach up with the hand that isn't wrapped around Tony and twine their fingers together, trying to convey how cared for he feels. He tries to take Tony deeper, easing down until he starts to choke and backing off again. Tony is panting, broken little noises interspersed with “oh fuck, fuck, Steve, fuck,” until his hand tightens in Steve's hair and he says clearly, 

“I'm going to come, pull off if you want to but I know you can take it.” Steve squeezes his fingers and keeps his mouth exactly where it is.

When Tony finally tugs at his hair and pulls him away, Steve rests his head on Tony's hip and breathes him in. He feels boneless, curled up with Tony above him, not even aware of his own arousal until Tony breathes, “Good boy.”

Then he notices, feels hot and tight with need, his cock achingly hard. Tony drags him up to lie beside him and hooks a leg around his, keeping him in place. Steve has no idea what to do with his hands until Tony says, “Hold on to the headboard for me, sweetheart,” and makes everything simple.

Tony kisses him hard, pushing his head back into the pillows. He makes Steve wait, running his hand down his side and scratching teasingly at his inner thighs before he touches Steve's cock. Steve bucks up into the contact.

Tony says “I want to bite you while you come,” and the idea is so overwhelming Steve can hardly get the words out.

“God, yes, please yes.” He's not close yet and he doesn't give a damn, wants Tony to keep biting him for as long as it takes, and Tony does, sucking bruises into his chest and the top of his shoulder, where nothing will be seen at all. He comes with Tony's teeth hot and sweet in his chest, shuddering into Tony's hand.

Tony pulls his hands gently away from the bedframe and lets him lie there while Tony grabs the wipes to clean his hand and Steve's belly and the side of his face, oddly enough. 

“Did I get you in the ear?” he chokes and Tony grins.

“Little bit.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Worth it.” Tony throws the wipes randomly off the bed and tugs the duvet over them both. “You doing okay?” Steve nods and rolls onto his side, curling up against Tony with his shoulder for a pillow. 

“That was amazing. You are amazing. I'm all melted now.”

Tony chuckles, his chest rumbling under Steve's ear. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We can put you back together later.” And Steve does what he's told


End file.
